our wealthiest and most respected citizens. He'd never let himself or
his car be mixed up in such a business. And I'm sure he doesn't know
Brack, and has never had anything to do with him."

"But it is Zara's ribbon! I'm positive of that," insisted Bessie. "And
he's the same man I saw at Farmer Weeks' place in Hedgeville, too."

"No, no; I'm afraid you're mistaken, Bessie."

"But the ribbon--why should that be in his car?"

"Let me see it."

She handed him the ribbon, and he looked at it carefully.

"Why, that doesn't seem to be very promising evidence, Bessie," he said.
"I suppose you could find ribbon like that in any dry goods store almost
anywhere. Thousands of girls must have pieces just like it. Even if it
is just the same as the one Zara wore, that doesn't prove anything.
You'd have to have more evidence than that. However, I'll keep it in
mind. You never can tell what's going to turn up, and I suppose it's
easily possible to imagine stranger things than Mr. Holmes being mixed
up in this affair. Well, you can depend upon it that everything possible
is being done, and no one could do more than that. I wish I knew more,
that's all."

So did Bessie, and she was thinking hard as they left his office and
made their way toward some of the shops in which, the day before, she
had so longed to be. Feminine instinct has more than once proved itself
superior to masculine logic, and although both Jamieson and Eleanor